Long May We Reign
by MasterOf4Elements
Summary: A collection of short fanfictions inspired by one of the greatest families in history. The Tudors.
1. The King and his Princess

"You dare to tell me that I cannot see my own daughter?"

The voice of King Henry VIII echoed through the hallway, causing the maids and attendants to cower.

"Even at six my Mary has more authority in this kingdom than you could even hope to see."

"Papa?" a small, rasped voice called from inside the nearby room.

Henry's blistering anger softened to a boyish smile and he quickly moved to kneel next to his ill daughter's bedside.

"How are you feeling, lovely girl?" he asked her.

"Better," Mary said. "The soup helps."

"That is very good, darling. I am happy to hear this."

Henry petted Mary's hair, continuing to smile lovingly at her. It was well known that Henry Tudor wanted….needed a son. He'd been disappointed when a girl had been delivered, but truthfully he could never be disappointed in his sweet princess. Mary was the jewel of his heart. It was Queen Katherine, the child's mother, whom the anger was directed towards.

"Papa, when may I go outside again?" Mary asked.

"As soon as your doctor says that you can. Even princesses must listen to doctors."

Mary sighed. "But it's ever so boring here."

"Well, my dearest daughter, I promise that as soon as you are well again we shall have a picnic. Just you, myself, and Mother. How does that sound?"

"I should like that very much."

Henry smiled brightly, a smile that he had passed on to his daughter. Neither could smile without their cheeks flustering red.

"And a new kitten as well," Mary continued, folding her hands in a very ladylike fashion.

Henry chuckled. "We shall see, sweetheart. We shall see."

True to his word one week later when Mary's sore throat had surpassed Henry and Katherine took their little girl out into the castle garden for a private picnic. Joining them were two kittens that Henry had miraculously discovered hiding in his coat pockets.


	2. He Taketh Away

Katherine rose from the altar in the chapel adjacent to her personal chambers. She crossed herself and looked up at the statue of the Blessed Virgin.

It had only been a week since her precious baby boy had been taken from her. Both she and Henry had been devastated. Henry had kept his emotions well hidden from the public eye during the funeral, only to come home and destroy ever item in the nursery in a rage. The king then locked himself inside his room with a bottle of strong wine, commanding that he not be disturbed for any reason.

Katherine couldn't help but be worried about her husband. She did love him, perhaps not in the way a husband and wife should love one another, but she knew an arranged marriage could've been far worse. Henry was kind to her and showed her he cared for her in his own little ways.

Tonight she was alone and Katherine could only assume Henry had taken comfort in the arms of one of his many mistresses. It was a common practice for a man, especially those of noble birth, to take a number of women to their beds other than their wives. Her own father had done it, and English kings had a history of doing so as well. The Tudor's claim to the royal bloodline had been through a bastard.

Katherine knew it was unrealistic, but had often hoped the man she would marry would be different. She also could not help but wonder if Arthur, Henry's older brother and her first husband, would have been faithful to her had they had the opportunity to even consummate their marriage.

Suddenly Katherine was startled by a loud noise coming from down the hall. Her ladies rushed to her attendance just as the large wooden door burst open revealing a very drunk Henry Tudor. He smiled when he saw Katherine clutching her bed linens to her chest.

"My sweet, sweet, Catalina," Henry slurred, as he swayed in.

Katherine was surprised to see Henry, and to hear him call her by her Spanish name. It was a rare occurrence and usually only happened when Henry desired her in his bed.

"Husband," Katherine greeted him, her voice unwavering.

Henry removed his nightshirt, which had been the only thing he was wearing and stumbled over to Katherine's bed. Katherine's attendants quickly left the room. They did not need to be verbally ordered to do so. A simple nod from the queen let them know what she wanted.

Henry leaned over and began to kiss Katherine's neck.

"Henry, it has only barely been a month since I've given birth," Katherine said. "You know that the doctors…"

"Damn the doctors," Henry said, giving his wife a fierce kiss on her lips.

Katherine placed her hands on Henry's chest in an effort to keep them apart. She did not push him away for she enjoyed his touch and desired his comfort as well. Katherine gathered her wits enough to turn her head away, but Henry took the notion to kiss her jawline.

"My love," she whispered, feeling Henry slide his hands down her body.

Henry looked up at Katherine. There he saw the eyes and features of his baby son. Burying his face against Katherine's chest he began to sob.

"My son…our son…"

"God will bless us with another son," Katherine assured him. "Many strong sons and beautiful daughters."

Henry wrapped his arms tightly around Katherine and lowered them to lay next to each other. He pressed a kiss to her forehead without saying a word, before settling down and falling fast asleep.

Katherine sighed heavily. Would God give them children? Could they even have a daughter, let alone a son? Katherine rested her forehead against Henry's and soon she too was asleep.


	3. Henry

"You asked to see me, Majesty," young Anne, said as she curtsied low to the ground.

King Henry walked over to her and tucked his hand her chin, lifting her face to him. "Anne."

Anne Boleyn smiled and rose. She tilted her head thoughtfully and Henry took the opportunity to kiss her.

"I have missed you, dear one," Henry said.

"And I have missed you," Anne said, properly.

With a flick of his wrist, Henry shooed his guards and attendants out of the door and into the hallway, giving him the privacy he desired.

"Now my sweet," he said, with a wide smile. "Shall we sit by the fire and talk."

Anne nodded and allowed Henry to escort her to one of the chairs sitting in front of the large, blazing fireplace.

"Would you like a bit of wine, m'lady?"

Anne nodded. "Thank you. His Majesty is most kind."

"Would you call me Henry? We are alone now. I should like to hear my name on your beautiful lips."

Anne lowered her eyes in a demure fashion as a light blush reached her cheeks. "Henry."


	4. One Night to Last a Lifetime

King Henry VIII's court was always buzzing about with those wanting to please His Majesty. Of course most of their motives were selfish and the King new this all too well. Henry, like so many rulers before him, often liked to see how far he could push their subjects' loyalty. Many of the men at court would sell their daughters or even their own wives as mistresses to the King in order to secure their positions.

Of course Henry had the right to refuse the offers, but what man could resist a pretty young virgin offering her maidenhood to him. One of the 'lucky' young ladies was a seventeen-year-old named Margaret. She was there on behalf of her father and mother, who twenty years earlier had been Henry's mistress as well. Henry had been married to Katherine of Aragon then and had yet to have a living child. Now Henry was unmarried, still supposedly mourning the loss of Queen Jane the year before, and had a legitimate son.

Henry of course also had two now disowned daughters from his previous marriages and several illegitimate children. One of his unacknowledged daughters was Margaret's own older sister, Mary.

"Do you play chess?" Henry asked the young girl who was still standing by the door.

"Yes, Your Majesty," she answered softly.

Margaret was frightened from stories she had heard about the king, though her mother assured her Henry was a kind man and would be gentle knowing she was still but a virgin.

"Please sit down," Henry said and gestured toward the seat in front of him. Between the seats was a table set up for a game. "Is the fire too warm for you?"

Margaret shook her head. "No, Your Majesty."

Henry reached out and took her small hand into his. "Please, dear, we are alone here and while we are alone you may call me Henry….or Harry if you'd like. It has been so long since I have been called by that name."

Margaret smiled weakly. "Harry."

Henry smiled in return. Asking his lady of choice to call him by an informal name never failed to make them feel at ease. "And may I call you Margaret then?"

"You may, but my sister calls me Meg. I rather like that."

"Meg," Henry mused. "What a lovely name."

"Thank you, Your Ma….thank you, Harry."

Harry reached his hand under the table and placed it on Margaret's knee. "I don't feel like playing chess too much. Shall we do something else?"

Margaret took a deep breath. "Of course."

Henry stood and held out his hand to Margaret. "If I sing to you would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

Margaret breathed a sigh of relief and placed her hand in Henry's. She had heard that the king was a talented musician, but upon hearing his voice in person she felt her heart flutter. He sang to her about seeking a long lost love and held her close to him.

"You are very talented," Margaret complimented.

"I thank you. I was trained by the church when I was a child," Henry said. His voice softened. "Had my brother not died I would be a cardinal by now."

"God's plans for us are indeed mysterious," Margaret said.

"Indeed they are," Henry said, stopping their dance. He tilted his head and captured Margaret's lips in a passionate kiss. He rubbed his hands down her shoulders and smoothed down her waist. "I desire you if you so desire me."

Margaret's breath hitched. She knew the risks of becoming the king's mistress. She could end up pregnant with his child and alone as her mother had. She was giving up her maidenhood to someone who was not her husband…to a man who could not love her though his actions tonight would've convinced her otherwise.

"I do," Margaret whispered.

And with those two simple words and great passion was ignited.


End file.
